


From the Creators of TV Land...

by SummerRunaway



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s06e15 The French Mistake, Fluff, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Surprise Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-01
Updated: 2014-07-01
Packaged: 2018-02-06 22:50:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1875420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SummerRunaway/pseuds/SummerRunaway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Archangels are dicks. And Sam Winchester should know, having met all four of them, with two of them torturing him in Hell for over a year because they were bored. But after getting a taste of the life as Jared Padalecki by Balthazar’s hand, it makes Sam wonder – Balthazar’s alternate universe could have come straight from the imagination of a certain archangel that has a habit of being able to squeeze out of sticky situations.</p>
<p>Set mid-season 6, just after the happenings of “The French Mistake”.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From the Creators of TV Land...

**Author's Note:**

> My first try at a Supernatural, let alone a Sabriel, fic. Requested by tumblr user runningwolf62 asking for "a cute Sabriel fic".

When Dean dropped down onto a chair opposite his brother and suggested they stay low for a while, Sam protested immediately.

“Dean, we’re in the middle of something deep here, we can’t just stop!” he argued, but his complaint was cut short by his older brother holding his hand up, gesturing for silence.

“Only a few days, maybe a week.” Dean explained. “Man, we nearly got murdered by Raphael and his posse the other day, even if it was just for Balthazar’s key, and they may just try it again. So let’s stay here with Bobby, and figure out what we’re gonna do with this ‘Mother of All’ business.” Dean smirked. “Thought you’d be jumping at the chance at reading a shit ton of dusty old books.”

Sam rolled his eyes and Dean grinned.

“Besides, old Bobby could use the company,” Dean threw the comment over his shoulder as he strode into the kitchen, swiping a beer from the fridge and opening it up with ease.

“Who are you calling old?” Bobby said gruffly, entering the room with his arms weighed down by shopping bags. “I’m the one pulling all my weight and doing all the grocery runs while you sit around emptying the bottles.” he planted the bags down on the bench, nudging Dean out of the way and looking pointedly to the dirty dishes and beer bottles piled near the sink. “Hell, you boys eat like you’ll never see food again.”

“Thanks for the shopping, Bobby,” Sam replied obediently, standing up and making his way around the desk he was sitting at. His legs were stiff from sitting for so long. 

Dean thought it was the perfect opportunity for Bobby to get on his side. “Hey, Bobby, you think we should stick around here for a while, make sure we don’t get killed by the angelic sons of bitches for a few days?”

“Sure.” Bobby replied carelessly. “Whatever you think is best.”

Dean shot a triumphant look over to his younger brother. Sam sighed.

“Fine, whatever, we can stay here a while,” he gave in, taking his own beer from the fridge.

“Knew I’d get through to you,” Dean grinned, “Jared.”

“Shut up.” Sam said with a grin, shouldering past the older Winchester. “That place was messed up.”

“I know, right?” Dean replied wholeheartedly. “I mean, you had portraits all over your mansion walls. Portraits of yourself.”

“Don’t remind me.” Sam groaned.

“And Ruby.” Dean continued. “Or—Gen or whatever. Gave me a fright.” He stopped to think for a second. “Watcha think when you saw her, Sammy? Bet you were happy for a second, thinking she was alive and kicking.”

Sam felt heat rising in his cheeks. “Dean, don’t.” He would never admit to his brother that while he had been freaked out by Genevieve’s appearance, he’d also felt his heart leap into his throat with the thought that his former lover was still alive.

Dean took a swig from his drink, and muttered under his breath, “Betcha did.”

Sam slammed his hand down on the bench, silencing his brother’s goading, making both Dean and Bobby jump from the unexpected change in character. It had been two years since Ruby’s death, yet Sam was still sensitive about his relationship with her being mentioned, along with the rest of his dark, demon-blood-drinking times. It was an era he loved and loathed at the same time, vivid in his mind yet he was desperate to forget.

Bobby hastily changed the subject though. “You guys seem to be forgetting the fact that I was named after a writer of that damned show. What arrogant dick would do that?”

Dean grinned, and Sam relaxed, the tension in his shoulders disappearing as quickly as it came.

“Wonder why Balthazar would send us to that place.” Dean queried, eyebrows springing up like a startled rabbit. “We have that stuff on our ribs; he could have just sent us to some random town anywhere is this country and those angels would never have been able to find us. So why did he send us to that-” he gestured wildly with his hands- “Place?”

“Who knows?” Bobby answered with what everyone was thinking. “He’s a creative little bastard, by your accounts of what happened over there.” he shrugged. “Probably a bit of a genius too, for coming up with that whole thing.”

“Huh.” Sam scoffed. “He never seemed like the ‘genius’ type. Just…tricky.”

That word brought a flood of memories back to him. Spending a hundred days watching his brother die in various strange ways. Dean being asked to guard a copy of ‘Casa Erotica 13’ with his life, the DVD turning out to give the answer of how to defeat Lucifer. Being uncomfortably turned into a car. Being thrown into TV land and having to live through a bunch of wacky situations – sitcoms, soap operas, quiz shows, herpes commercials…

TV land…

Balthazar’s strike of genius and throwing them into a world where they were acting out their own life for a TV show…it made Sam wonder if it was Balthazar’s creativity or if he had help from another source.

“Sam?” Dean snapped his fingers in front of his brother’s face. “Something up?”

Sam blinked in surprise, not realising he had been lost in his thoughts. He took a long drink from his beer before replying. “Nope. Just thinking about…” he struggled to find an answer. “…archangels.”

“Archangels.” Dean repeated incredulously. “Okay.” He flopped down in a chair. “Well, there’s one thing we know about all of them – they’re all dicks. Michael, Lucifer, Raphael, Gabriel – all of them.” he reconsidered. “I guess Gabriel was alright though. If he hadn't died fighting Lucifer, he might have become a friend to us.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed under his breath. “I guess.”

Gabriel was the whole reason the destined fight between Michael-Dean and Lucifer-Sam hadn't become a reality, telling the brothers about how to lock Lucifer back in the cage. But he was also the one who outright murdered Dean too many times to count, just as a simple joke, along with several other people in his ‘Just Desserts’ style. Sam couldn't fully forgive and forget the trickster angel of that.

“Can you two ladies stop reminiscing the past and think about how what we’re gonna do next?” Bobby interrupted them. “We have, very possibly, the most powerful beast popped out of Purgatory, and we have no idea how to defeat it. We should be figuring out how to kill this thing, not talking about a damn dead angel.”

They all stopped for a second, and after downing the rest of his beer, Dean shrugged and picked up a book, blowing dust off the cover, and opening it up. “Fine then.”

“Good.” Bobby nodded approvingly in the older Winchester’s direction. He then turned to Sam. “You better get started, too.”

Sam nodded and reached for a book just before opening his jaws in an enormous yawn.

Dean cracked a smile. “Aww, Sleeping Beauty not get enough rest last night?”

Sam rolled his eyes opening up the book, but already his eyelids were drooping and another yawn was reaching his lips. He frowned, rubbing his eyes and blinking, stretching his eyes open. “Actually, yeah.” he replied. “I can’t keep my eyes open.”

Bobby raised his eyebrows, then sighed. “You boys are non-stop, no wonder you’re so tired. Go on then, get an early night.”

Sam nodded towards the older man in thanks, making his way to his bedroom. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

\--

Surrounded by rustling candy wrappers was not a particularly pleasant situation to be woken up in. If the candy was still stored inside them, Sam may have been a tad more happy.

“The fu--?” Sam said groggily, pushing himself into a sitting position. Candy wrappers blanketed him and were strewn across his bed, so many of them that they were spilling onto the floor. Sam groaned and brushed himself off, finding out that some of the wrappers had even found their way into his hair. A snicker from across the room caught his attention, and he looked up, finding himself in the company of a very smug, very familiar face.

“Crap.” he complained, letting his head collapse back onto the pillow. “Gabriel.”

“That’s not a very warm welcome for the guy who helped save your ass and stop the apocalypse.” the cheeky archangel tutted, sauntering over to the bed. “Sorry for the decorations,” he continued, gesturing to the candy wrappers. “You were taking so long to wake up, and I got bored. And hungry.”

“Sure.” Sam replied sarcastically. He couldn't even muster up any surprise towards the archangel’s reappearance. “So, is this real, or a dream?”

Gabriel shrugged. “I don’t understand why that matters.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Right. Because either way, you somehow faked your death – for what, the third time?”

“Yep!” Gabriel did a little skip. “Can’t believe I tricked my dear big brother.” He distorted his face to look like Lucifer. “’Silly hocus pocus’, he said. I may have learnt everything I know from him, but he’d been getting rusty, living so long in that cage. Thought he would have kept up his practice.” he shrugged, turning his face back. “Probably did. Either way, the Trickster has tricked again!” he cackled, seating himself at the edge of Sam’s bed.

Sam yawned, stretching his arms to the ceiling. “Well. Can’t say I’m happy to see you.” Then he stooped mid-yawn. “Wait. Why’d you wait so long to tell us?”

Gabriel twisted his mouth into a smile. “Wanted to wait until the whole shindig was over. The Lucifer-Michael battle that never actually happened – surprisingly – then Dean retiring from his business, then that whole debacle of you walkin’ ‘round with no soul.” Gabriel raised his eyebrows accusingly at Sam. “Glad that’s over. It was painful watching that.” he cracked his knuckles loudly, making Sam flinch. “Balthazar was the only amigo I could tell without my secret getting out. He’s very trustworthy, very loyal to me, always was. I was the one who gave him the idea of the whole ‘Jared and Jensen’ world. But you already guessed that, huh?”

Sam nodded thinking about earlier that afternoon talking with Dean and Bobby. Then he stopped eyes widening. “You were watching me?” Sam said, shocked. “You could have helped us kill Lucifer without me jumping into the pit! Helped me get my soul back!”

“Could have, but didn't.” Gabriel replied simply, flicking his hand dismissively. “Decided not to get involved. I mean hey, who could blame me? The last time I intervened with you kids, I got killed!”

“No, you didn't.” Sam pointed out. Then a thought struck him. “Gabriel, everyone thought you were dead. You could have done anything you wanted; gone back to your old ways, or anything else. Yet you…you kept tabs on me?”

“Of course!” Gabriel exclaimed, surprised. “Of course I’d keep tabs on the kid I’d tussled with every now and then; the kid who I – kind of – sacrificed myself for. Besides,” one side of Gabriel’s mouth twisted up, “You are one of the most intriguing humans I have ever encountered, Sam Winchester.”

“Because I was Lucifer’s vessel.”

“That was the reason you caught my attention, yes,” Gabriel admitted. “But so much more than that. Having Dean sell his soul for you, for my dear brother Castiel to bring you back from the dead – even if it was without a soul – there must be some special reason as to why it was always…you.” Gabriel gestured to Sam’s body. “And as I watched, I realised how…fascinating…you were unlike anyone else. Humans, they are the simplest, most predictable beings on Planet Earth. Even your brother Dean, I could figure out after a while. But you were different in a way that was simply amazing in my mind.”

Sam blinked, eyebrows lifting up in disbelieving. “Right.”

Gabriel sighed. “To make a long story short, you are an exquisite young man, and I've often been preparing myself for this moment, when we met again, and every scenario I could think of – whether it was with you celebrating the revelation of my being alive, or hating me so much that you’d beat me up until I was beyond recognition, I’d come up with single, simple ending.” 

Was Gabriel blushing? At this point, Sam was terribly confused. The archangel was speaking nonsense. And then it hit him.

Well, not really hit him, exactly – more like gave him a peck on the lips. The movement was so sudden that it took several seconds afterwards for Sam to process what had happened. But just before he could question it, Gabriel whispered in his ear, “Don’t tell anyone about this, okay?” and disappeared in a flash of light and a sound of flapping wings.

\--

It was a relief for Sam to wake up and realise that his bedroom had not been made a mess by an archangel’s cravings for candy. For his room was clean; no candy wrappers in sight. Unless Gabriel had cleaned up his litter while Sam was asleep, which was unlikely, it had all been a simple dream.

Yet the memory of the kiss – if that was what it was – was all but fading. He could still feel the light pressure on his lips, and the whole conversation was still vivid in his mind. It may have been a dream, but Sam knew from personal experience that angels could infiltrate dreams. Which mean t that there was a great chance that Gabriel was alive. And he had taken a…special liking…to Sam.

Shuffling into the kitchen, still weary and confused from the dream, he didn't notice Dean up and eating toast. “It’s a miracle!” he exclaimed jokingly. “I wake up before the famous early bird does.”

Sam ignored his brother, and slipped a couple of pieces of bread into the toaster. Dean cocked his head to one side, confused.

“Sam?”

Sam yawned and took out the butter from the fridge.

“Earth to Sammy! Earth to Sammy! Come in, brother!” Dean called out, and Sam turned to face him, a deadly look on his face. Dean flinched a bit at his brother’s face. “Wow, you look like shit. Is there a problem?” Worry suddenly spurted out of his mouth with his words. “Did you…remember Hell…?”

Sam shook his head. “Nah. My bed just felt like it was made of nails last night, that’s all.”

“Dang. We gotta get you a new mattress.” Dean concluded, brushing crumbs off a book in front of him. “No progress last night, by the way. This ‘Mother’ chick sure keeps a low profile.”

“Sorry for bailing on study night.” Sam apologised.

“No need. Bookworms need their sleep just like everyone else does.”

There was silence for a minute, before the toast popped up, only just brown, the way Sam liked it. But he didn't notice. He was dragging his fingers curiously across his lips, thinking about being thrust into a time loop, then into TV land, then into his dream, surrounded by candy wrappers…he simply couldn't stop thinking about the golden-eyed, sweet-toothed, Trickster-like archangel who had come back from the dead…again.

**Author's Note:**

> I apologise for the abrupt ending...I didn't really know how to end it. I was going to do a tiny bit and the end from Gabriel's POV, but couldn't find a good way to put it in.


End file.
